


Ghosts of the Past

by alpacasandravens



Series: gotham gets hugs [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, jeremiah gets a hug 2k20, post-4x18, traumatized jeremiah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacasandravens/pseuds/alpacasandravens
Summary: “It’s… I was scared of Jerome. I still am, I suppose. Whenever I go outside I can’t help thinking I’m going to see him, that he’s going to come for me.”“Your brother’s dead, Jeremiah,” Bruce says in the most understanding tone he can.“I know. Old habits, though.” Jeremiah looks straight ahead as he speaks, carefully keeping his eyes off of Bruce. It looks as though his words are being torn from him, and something in Bruce hurts to see him like this. “And even though he’s dead, I can’t help thinking that it’s not over. That he’s left some final trap for me.”
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska & Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Valeska & Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne
Series: gotham gets hugs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726849
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Ghosts of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> AU where even though Jerome died in 4x18 and Jeremiah got sprayed he's still genuinely soft and friends/something more with Bruce for a while after. I don't want it to all have been a lie folks.  
> shoutout to @owlxe for the prompt, I actually did something angsty with it this time.

“If we move this circuit here,” Bruce said, pointing to a part of the diagram spread on the table before them, “do you think that would work?”

“Hm? Oh, uh, yes.” 

Bruce looked up from the diagram and across the table at Jeremiah. It was a Tuesday night, or possibly Wednesday morning by now, as they tended to get very wrapped up in their work. Something in Jeremiah’s eyes was unfocused, and Bruce felt a flash of guilt for staying over so late. 

“Are you tired?” Bruce asked. “I can call Alfred and we can pick this back up another time.” 

“No,” Jeremiah says too quickly, shaking his head, “I’m not tired.” 

But something is clearly wrong. He’s not paying attention to the diagram, eyes aimed on it but not truly seeing. His fingertips are pressing into the table hard enough to turn white. 

“What’s wrong, then?”

“Nothing.” Jeremiah rolls up the diagram, carefully keeping his gaze away from Bruce. “Maybe I was tired after all.”

“Should I call Alfred?” Bruce is cautious. Selina gets like this sometimes, upset about something until talking to her feels like walking through shattered glass. He wants to help, but he doesn’t know how, and he’s terrified of making a mistake. 

“Would you mind staying? Just for a minute.” 

Bruce nods. “Of course.”

There isn’t a couch in the bunker, which is how they end up sitting next to each other on the stainless steel table they’d just been using to work. The lighting is harsh and white. This type of atmosphere is sterile, Bruce finds himself thinking, with even less room for emotion and personality than Wayne Manor. 

Jeremiah speaks first. 

“It scares me sometimes. Being in contact with the world, after so long.”

Bruce nods. He can’t imagine having lived the way Jeremiah did, in an underground bunker for years, only seeing Ecco in person.

“It’s… I was scared of Jerome. I still am, I suppose. Whenever I go outside I can’t help thinking I’m going to see him, that he’s going to come for me.”

“Your brother’s dead, Jeremiah,” Bruce says in the most understanding tone he can. 

“I know. Old habits, though.” Jeremiah looks straight ahead as he speaks, carefully keeping his eyes off of Bruce. It looks as though his words are being torn from him, and something in Bruce hurts to see him like this. “And even though he’s dead, I can’t help thinking that it’s not over. That he’s left some final trap for me.”

Jerome had come back from the dead once before. Bruce saw no reason why he couldn’t do it again. He did not mention this possibility. 

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Bruce says instead.

Jeremiah closes his eyes. “Thank you, Bruce. But you couldn’t stop him, not if he was determined.”

It hasn’t been too long since Jerome and Bruce last fought, in the diner. Jerome had won that time, it’s true. Because he’d been prepared. 

“I won’t have to stop him,” Bruce says. “He’s gone, Jeremiah. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Jeremiah sniffs, and Bruce realizes he’s been crying. He opens his eyes, and they are wet. “He’s still in here though,” Jeremiah says ruefully, tapping the side of his head. “I can’t forget him, and this might as well be his final revenge. Keeping me trapped down here out of fear of a dead man.”

Bruce reaches out and puts an arm around Jeremiah’s shoulders, gently pulling him until Jeremiah’s head rests on his shoulder and Bruce’s arm acts as a half hug. 

“You don’t have to stay down here, but you can if it makes you feel safe. But we can always work at the manor, if you want.”

“Maybe someday,” Jeremiah says. “I don’t think I’m ready for that now. But I’d like to be able to feel safe out there.”

“That’s okay,” Bruce says.

A few moments later, Jeremiah mumbles “I’m ruining your shirt.” Sure enough, there is a patch of tearstained cloth on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“Who cares?” Bruce says. He pulls Jeremiah into a real hug, holding him close in a way he doesn’t think anyone has done since Jeremiah was a kid. “I’m here. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Jeremiah nods. “Thank you, Bruce.”


End file.
